I woke up on the morning of December 27th with a wicked hangover. As I sat up in bed, my head instantly started throbbing uncontrollably and my mouth had a sour taste in it. I wandered aimlessly out of my bedroom and down the hall, entering the living room. My older brother, Anthony, is lying on the couch, face down, probably passed out. Empty cans of beer litter the carpet and it smells like someone or something just died.
"Oh, fuck," I hear Anthony mumble, rolling onto his side.
I shake my head. "You're a mess," I tell him, my voice sounding hoarse.
Anthony looks up at me drowsily. "Speak for yourself motherfucker, your eyes are all bloodshot," he grumbles.
I sigh and Anthony buries his face back into the green and brown striped pillow on the couch. I go over to the window and draw open the curtains, letting in some light. Anthony lets out another groan as I do this, as if he hasn't seen the sun in days and its too much for him. He probably hasn't.
"I'm going to go take a shower," I say before letting out a yawn.
Anthony waves his hand in my direction weakly, signaling that he heard me. I then saunter into the bathroom down the hall, and manage to look at myself in the mirror. Anthony was right. My eyes are bloodshot. Bloodshot as hell in fact. All pink and puffy around the edges. I run my right hand over my chin and cheeks, feeling spikes of stubble. Damn. I really needed to shave. I pull back the shower curtain and almost jump out of my own skin. I realize then that it's only Anthony's friend Luis, curled up in there, cradling a bottle of Jim Beam whiskey. I almost roll my eyes at this and pull the curtain back over, leaving the sorry son of a bitch to sleep in peace.
I stink so bad of booze that I can no longer stand it and decide to just shower in my mom's bathroom. Once I'm in there, I close the door behind me and lock it. Flinging off my clothes, I then step into the shower and turn on the overhead. Scalding hot water spurts out into my face and I almost cry out in surprise. I quickly turn the shower dial down so the water will be cold. When it cools down, I just stand in there for a minute, basking in the refreshing glory of it. After washing my face and body, I step out and almost slip on the wet floor. I dry myself off with a spare towel hanging on the rack and then return to the other bathroom to get my shaver. Anthony's up when I come out of mom's bedroom, wiping his eyes and blinking rapidly a few times. He then sees me and gives me a toothy grin.
"Have fun last night, Danny?" He asks.
"Sure, can't exactly remember anything but yeah it was fun I guess," I say. And it's true. All I can really remember from last night was driving to the liquor store with Anthony and his buddies, and getting like, a whole shopping cart full of whiskey. Well, maybe not a full cart, but it sure as hell seemed like it from what I can remember. Anthony's friend Christian had invited his girlfriend over our house that night too. She was pretty hot but left early I think because she was the only girl hanging out with us and Christian was completely wasted.
"Don't worry about mom finding all this," Anthony says, talking about the mess in the living room and kitchen. "I'll clean it up. Just gonna get some trash bags," he says to me reassuringly. I nod. Anthony and I were pretty good at that. Cleaning up our messes and pretending like they never happened. At least in front of mom. The funny thing was, mom never bothered faking around us. She didn't hide the fact that she was drunk or that she was high off of something when she came home from work. Oh well. I go back into the bathroom and grab the shaver from the top drawer. When I'm finished shaving my face, I splash my eyes one more time with cold water so they look a little more awake and don't scream, "Hey, I just got totally wasted last night!" I then get dressed in my room and spray some cologne on myself to cover up any smell of booze that might still be left over. My phone rests on my bedside table and I go over to it and unlock it. That's when I think of her. Nora. I wonder what's she doing right now. We haven't spoken in almost a week. I almost text her and ask what she's doing, but I don't want to sound needy, like I have no one else to chill with. She's probably with one of her other friends right now anyway. Or maybe she's not even awake yet. The clock on my phone says its 10:48. All of a sudden, my stomach feels completely empty and hollow and I realize that I'm fucking starved. I put my phone in the back pocket of my jeans and venture back out into the hallway.
YOU ARE READING
Deadly AttractionTeen Fiction
17 year old Nora O'Donnell isn't your typical teenager. Ever since her parent's brutal divorce when she was thirteen, Nora's life has never been the same. She feels completely traumatized and isolated, living with a mother who is never home becaus...